


Get it Up!

by chaiouse



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: (kinda), Aged-Up Character(s), Akechi gets the noise fucked out of his head, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Breeding, Consensual Non-Consent, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Dry Orgasm, Feminization, Handcuffs, Knifeplay, M/M, Master/Slave, Mindbreak, Multiple Orgasms, Ownership, Pornstars, Praise Kink, Puppy Play, Rape Roleplay, Rimming, Rough Sex, Safewords, Spanking, Subspace, THERES NO MINDBREAK TAG???, Verbal Humiliation, heed the tags, use of "cunt" and "pussy" for male genitalia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:15:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25169047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaiouse/pseuds/chaiouse
Summary: Akechi Goro is new and upcoming in the adult entertainment industry, heralded as the cockwhore of the century! He’s been arranged to share a scene (or two) with Akira Kurusu. A nefarious newcomer in the industry.-“The man had seemed so reserved thirty minutes earlier, sitting on the same couch he was now being relentlessly fucked into. With his impeccable coiffed hair and ironed slacks, he looked picture perfect; Akechi Goro.”
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 2
Kudos: 131





	Get it Up!

**Author's Note:**

> With the surgery business done, I finally had time to finish this off! 35 pages of debauchery. Dedicated to my lovely horny tl twt moots :)  
> \- hopefully I got all the additional tags

“I _hate_ you.”

Akira huffed down at the man he was currently fucking into, before quirking a saccharine grin. “You’ll hate me a lot more if I don’t let you come.” Emphasizing the threat with his thrusts, leaving the man below him to scratch haphazardly up his back. “You-.” The man cut off with a low grunt, letting his head fall back to the couch. His own milky thighs were held up to his chest, the pressure of the weight turning his perfectly manicured nails to a stark white. He was effectively folded up into himself, his legs laid splayed in the air. A sort of laissez-faire spread-eagle.

“You look like a fuck-puppet, taking my cock so well. Maybe you are? Maybe you were begging to be caught and fucked raw like this?” Akira’s already deep voice had taken a lower husky form, his dialogue met with a high moan from the man. He lessened his thrusts for a moment to allow the man to lift his head from the couch, only for him to bite out a, “fuck you.” Before dropping back onto the settee. His legs, shaky as they were, barely able to hold themselves up any-longer, began to slip.

The man attempted to speak again, only for Akira to crush his mouth against his own. Kissing the reservation out of the man. He bit down hard on the man’s engorged bottom lip. Causing it to swell up and pucker. Akira licked into his mouth with confidence, before separating.

The man now visibly attempted to pull himself together, Akira could almost hear him rehearse the lines in his head before he opened his mouth again.

“You _try_ to pull that shit and you won’t walk out of here alive.” The man spat at him, though the menace in his words was sated by his glazed-out eyes. Drool pooling bit by bit out of his swollen- fucked out lips. The gleam of his eyes gone, only the promise of pleasure and denial left in his blank pupils. Akira squeezed his non-dominant hand locked around the man’s drooling cock. Purpling at the top and with tears to match the man’s face. He could feel the throbbing through his hand, a plea, a wanting for release. His slut’s cock looked sloppy and used, precum dribbling around the top, dancing down his fastened grip. Looking back at his face, the menace had dropped completely and utterly, now only want and need reflected back at Akira.

The man’s hips bucked, the strain causing the faulted iron-grip under his thighs to stutter again. Akira let the man go limp under him, at first slowly, then all at once. Like a doll cut from its ropes. A toy done being used. And yet, the fuck-puppet in front of him still had ample time to endure till absolution. “Had your fill?” Akira sings down at the man, not letting up his thrusts. The man swayed his head back and forth on the couch like a mutt, his brain all but spilling out of his ears. “Nnnn… nno..” A pathetic whine split from his swollen lips. Akira sank down against the man, letting his breath waver over the slight of his neck. Open, and asking to be marked, to be ruined.

Akira wanted to ruin him for everyone else.

“A fuck-puppet begging to come… You’re so greedy.” He licked a line up the man’s throat. “And pathetic.” He sunk his teeth into the skin, leaving the man to wail. Sobs building up in his throat as his hips bucked desperately into Akira’s hand, searching frantically for his end. He hiccupped in wails, the hands that were previously ripping apart Akira’s back now lay dormant against him. Clinging tight, yet barely hanging on.

Akira ripped into the flesh of the man’s neck, causing a remarkable bruise to bloom for the man to gawk at later. Biting and sucking at the rose-coloured skin, leaving a fading ring of marks around his neck. Each one less forceful than the last, until he simply lapped and licked at the base of the man’s neck. Never relenting his thrusts, only pushing in deeper and deeper. Angling his hips up to just catch the mans prostate. The man’s wails only gained in volume at this, barely able to string together words and resorting to incoherent pleas, his lips brushing against Akira’s scruffy hair as he sobbed. “Nnn.. plea… Ahhh! Yes, y-yes!”

Akira hummed in approval. “Good boy. Your greedy cunt takes my cock so well, like you were made for me to breed.”

The man wailed at the praise. “Yes! I love your cock! You fill up my pathetic greedy hole so well! Y-y-yes!!” His eyes rolling around, like a pinball in an arcade. Glassy, brimming with tears and bliss. “Nnnh-nuuhh!” His body twitching now, hips bucking up into Akira’s hand like a broken record. Akira sneered, “Your cunt is twitching around me like a sloppy whore’s, I bet you’d let any man fuck you whenever they wanted. Bending over and presenting your pussy like it’s a token dispenser, you’re a disgusting cock-whore, made for nothing else but to be bred.”

The man writhed in Akira’s grip at this. His cock twitching at the lowly degradation, dribbling out more precum in tandem with his moans. “Yesyes _yes_!! My cunt loves your cock so much – please! Please use me!! Breed me – u-use me! I’m a greedy cockslut who gets fucked by men I don’t even know!! I love it! S-so please, use me to your delight!”

Akira slipped a cracked leer at this. The man’s loopy fucked-out nonsense only further spurring him on.

The man had seemed so reserved thirty minutes earlier, sitting on the same couch he was now being relentlessly fucked into. With his impeccable coiffed hair and ironed slacks, he looked picture perfect; Akechi Goro. A rising star in the adult entertainment industry, heralded as the cockwhore of the century! Akira had been filled with anxious excitement since he’d gotten notice that he would be acting out a scene with Akechi. He was to be graced with Akechi’s talents, in person no less!

Akira scoffed now. Goro seemed nothing more than a cheap whore beneath him, all the talents Akechi’s portfolio had boasted about were seemingly erased now. Instead, he had a pile of pink, mushy slut under him.

“Look at you. A drooling fucked out mess, from nothing but my cock. You’d do anything to come, wouldn’t you? You’re so desperate you’ll do anything. _Anything_ I want _.”_ Akira’s death-grip on Akechi’s cock loosened a bit at his retorting pathetic whimpers, feeling a slight bit of sympathy for the fuck-puppet he had reduced to nothing beneath him.

Akechi cried out, bucking his hips frantically to chase any friction Akira allowed him. “Nnn!! Plea-pleaseplease _please!_ I’ll do anything! _Please_ let me come, I’ll let you use my greedy boypussy forever! Please just let me come!!” His weepy sobs leaving torrential tear tracks down his cheeks, his entire face had taken on a rose blush from Akira’s cold denial.

Akira snapped his hips up. _Hard._ Leaving his cock buried deep inside Akechi’s weeping pussy, leaning forward now to fix the man with a hard snarl. “You _._ Do. _Not_. Give me permission to use you. Your pussy is _mine_ to use. Mine to breed. You don’t have a say in it. I _own_ you. I own you and your filthy cunt. You’re _mine_.”

Akira looked enraged, his steel eyes hard and narrowed, juxtaposed with Akechi’s fluttering red-rimmed eyes. Akechi looked like he barely knew where he was, much less able to respond to Akira. Instead, he wriggled against him, mumbling out a symphony of agreement. “Ah..Ahhh! Yes!! Yesyes I’m yours, I’m y-yours I’m yours, yours yours _yours_. His voice fading out while he continued to mouth the words. He looked far, far off. Away in some other place, his eyes fixated on the ceiling above as he hiccupped more agreements. Floaty and distant, Akira moved to turn him onto his side, letting the drool pooling down the sides of his cheeks and onto the couch to now dribble onto the floor.

The camera could now clearly see Akechi, in all his fucked-out glory. His mind was completely gone. Lost. Akira gently lessened the grip he held on the others cock, siphoning his hips now to hit right into Goro’s prostate. Giving the camera a front seat to his cock entering Goro’s sloppy hole. Slipping inside with a sickening, ‘ _Schlop!’_

Goro’s head hung limply on the couch, his mouth agape and eyes rolled up to the whites. Twitching like he was coming, like he was dying. The only words Akira could make out were deconstructed pleas. His pussy tightening around him every few seconds, like Akechi was enduring a thousand mini orgasms.

He certainly looked the part.

“Filthy whore… Come back to me, I’m going to feed you my come now, gonna fill you up, breed you till your fucked and full of my seed. Do you want to come on my cock?”

At this, Akechi regained a modicum of coherency. “Yessssss… wanna come. Wanna come on Sir’s cock…”

The title was not lost on Akira.

“Do you deserve your Sir’s come?” He pressed gently.

Akechi bounced his head up and down enthusiastically, like a feral bobble-head. His dribbling smile shuttering with his every breath. Breathing out ‘yeses’ at every exhale. Almost like a hymn or mantra to some deity. Blatant worship for his Sir.

“Yess… give me.. give me your come Sir. Fuck me full, breed me! Fill me up with your s-spunk!! Make me fat and round with it!” He playfully stuck out a tongue at Akira.

Akira pulled Akechi down by his waist, shoving in as deep as he could inside his sloppy boypussy before pistoning his hips. He moved at an incredible speed, a sex god! Drilling into Goro’s cunt like he was nothing more than a doll.

Nothing more than a wet hole for his Sir.

Akechi keened, if possible, even louder. “Ahh!! A-hh!” He couldn’t conceivably keep up with Akira’s wailing thrusts, instead limply holding on for the ride. “S-sir!! Yes!! Ah-ah! Your cock Sir! It feels so go-nnuhh!! Use me! Use my boypussy!! I want Sir’s come- please!!”

Lying on his side as he was, Akechi was unable to muffle his voice. His pleas turned straight towards the camera, where the viewers would surely greedily lap up his pathetic expression. Akira couldn’t decide whether to focus on Goro’s cunt swallowing him up insatiably or his fucked-out face. Lips fat and swollen from a gracious blowjob he had provided for the camera earlier that night, along with Akira’s rough treatment of them with his own lips.

And teeth.

The director had insisted on a POV shot and subsequent facial for the scene, and Akechi had folded. Much to Akira’s chagrin, as Akira held the belief that Akechi Goro didn’t _do_ blowjobs, and he didn’t know whether to feel pleased or put-off that Akechi had agreed to one for this scene.

Regardless, Akira leered now, like a predator sizing up his prey. As if he was the cat that got the cream, the cream in a sense being Akechi.

Akira had migrated his hands now, finally, from their tight iron-clad grip on Akechi’s cock. Moving them up to dance around his throat. He locked eyes with Akechi, almost asking for permission that he had no intention of respecting. Running his thumbnail along the cut of Akechi’s throat, like a pseudo-knife. The intent was clear.

Akechi’s eyes rolled up. “ _Yesss_ … P-please.. Choke me Sir!!”

He was working himself off frantically, hips bucking down into Akira’s cock and then up into his own fist. Locked in a cycle of pleasure and bliss.

Akira moved his hand up, tightening the pressure slowly at first, almost stagnant. Before an impatient whine from Akechi made him rethink his kindness. He choked Akechi, _hard._ Without mercy nor patience. Using his body simply as a sex doll, using him to get his release.

He tautened his grip on Akechi’s neck, surely leaving a lovely handprint amidst the ring of love bites. Bites his maquillage couldn’t hope to cover up! Akechi made stifled, garroted sounds. His one free hand surging up to try pull away at Akira’s hand while his other pumped even faster into his fist. His moans were cut and suffocated, he sounded like he was dying, like he was on the verge of collapse, his tone lachrymal inducing.

Then. All at once, he fell.

Screaming out his release at levels that would surely shatter glass, undulating against Akira’s debauched thrusts. “Coming!! C- _coming_!! Com-Ahhh! Sir!! Sir! _Sir_!!!” His purpled cock spurting again and again over his rippling stomach. Eyes closed as he tried to catch his breath yet, failing miserably. Akira himself met his own climax not seconds after Akechi, his come stayed plugged up inside Goro. Keeping him warm and full and making him feel floaty. Like the celling was so much more interesting than he had given it credit for, he fluttered his eyes.

Blinking like he had just woken up, Goro ran a hand through his knotted, ragged hair. Clearly in a fog of some sort. He moved his line of sight up slowly, like a child looking up at an adult in the high-tide of summer. Akira was the sun, and Akechi could barely keep his eyes open. Mechanically leaking out tears caused by emotions he couldn’t even hope to process. He looked at Akira finally, looked right into his steely grey-ice eyes.

Akira looked down at him like he had just hacked up a breath up after almost drowning at sea, like he had finally wakened after years in a comatose state. He was looking at Akechi like he controlled the rising and setting of the sun and the movements of the tides. And Akechi, having never seen a look like this conceived for him; looked away.

“ _CUT!”_

The director shocked both the men out of their stupor, the lackadaisical fog Akechi had found himself in was ripped away. Soon he swarmed by his manager, and an army made up of the cosmetics team. All picking and poking at his slovenly maquillage.

Akechi felt a tide wash over him. His manager spoke quick at him, all her words dissolving into white noise. His eyes still locked on Kurusu; who sat still in the middle of the set. A hoard of his own people around him, prodding at his unruly mass of ebon hair and stained skin. Kurusu maintained their eye contact, like a cat sizing up its prey.

Akechi felt a tight pinch, finally breaking the contact to look at his manager with narrowed eyes. “You understand, yes?” Her coffin-shaped nails lingered over his skin like she was priming to regain his attention at a moments notice.

His blank stare spoke for itself.

“We’ve organised another scene with Kurusu in a few days, it would be best to get his number and arrange a meeting with him,” she drummed ornate nails against her thigh impatiently, “the producer spoke with me earlier about the content of the scene, you’ll need to go over it with him later.” She echoed her words like she was speaking to a child, and yet, Goro felt grateful for the reiteration.

Akechi’s world dulled down to the conversation. Another scene? With Kurusu? His eyes flicked over to the man, heat seeping into his chest at the thought. A scene that required a meeting beforehand. If his manager was advocating it, surely the director had some demented script waiting in store for him.

“Yes. I understand. I’ll speak with him afterwards.”

“See to it that you do.”

With her message divulged, the woman turned to verbally assault the director, her lengthy hoary hair morphing to an unsightly blanch under the studio soft-box lighting.

Akechi snickered at the display, causing his cosmetics team to communally chastise him for ruining his already debased maquillage.

He let out a profound exhale, expelling the past thirty minutes of intensity into the air. First, he’d shower off the filth from the scene, and then, he’d talk to Kurusu. He already had a café in mind for their meeting, one that promised privacy and security in lieu of two up-and-coming adult entertainers.

Yes. Now that his inner monologue had returned, he let himself retreat into his thoughts. Allowing the cosmetics team to continue poking and prodding about his face and mangled state of hair. Another scene with Kurusu, he pondered; that was perturbing at best. Akechi had been with countless men; pornstars and rendezvous’ alike, and yet, none of them drew out this spindly wanting side of himself like Kurusu had. Kurusu was all but an enigma to him.

He had felt himself float! His state of mind warped with Kurusu; the man drew something new-fangled out of Akechi. He had barely been aware of the camera crew, at one point forgetting where he was completely! His entire existence narrowed down to Kurusu’s cock, and the want to come. No, _need_ to come.

Akechi winced, his hands fisting in his palms. He had called Kurusu _“Sir.”_ A title neither of them had agreed upon, nor was in the script! A script that was good as dust now, what with how close the two had followed it. Akechi had fallen out of his mind with Kurusu’s thrusts, it was shameful now, thinking back on his desecrate behaviour.

But Sae and the director had seemed fine with it, him and Kurusu’s telephone game version of the original script was met with leering eyes and saliva saturated mouths.

So, it was safe to say Goro was in the clear.

\--

Akira tapped his hands against his luxurious supple robes, the same ones he had seen Akechi carefully fitted in before he was assured out of the studio and into his own fitting room. Akira himself had unceremoniously been shoved into his measly, dated fitting room. Set in the back of the studio, clearly for the undesirables of the production.

Akira huffed to himself. His joints surely didn’t feel undesired.

Akechi had given him a run for his money, Akira had fucked him with all his might! His joints _ached._ He could only imagine how sore the man in question was feeling.

“Fuckin’ pretty boy.” He stifled into his hands, lamenting the sheer state of Akechi’s hair by the end of the scene. What he would have given to see the mans reaction to it! After witnessing his uptight manager’s response, Akira could only deduce the mass carnage that would occur when Akechi Goro himself saw the mangled mess he had become.

His manager certainly hadn’t seemed impressed.

The woman had seemed livid! Constantly shooting glares towards the director and then to himself. Akira could feel the rage of a thousand sun’s shine down on him from the ferocity of her scowl. She looked at him like he was a pig at a roast!

 _Better keep my paws off._ Akira jingled through his head, playing with the stray threads on the belt of his robe. Akechi’s lack of coherency towards the latter half of the scene was _interesting,_ to say the least. _Maybe he just hadn’t been fucked out of his mind recently??_ Maybe it was Akira’s superior skill that had made Akechi virtually catatonic on his cock. Akira bristled at the thought; wrapping the stray threads around his fingers, looping them around before yanking them out of the fabric.

The pulled thread had scrunched up the belt, towing it taut in some areas and loose in others, garnering it as effectively useless.

Not like he had to give the robe back, he grumbled to himself, before jumping up a good ten feet in his chair from a loud _KNOCK!_ at the door.

“Kurusu? Are you in there?” A voice muffled through the door.

_Akechi?_

What on earth would he want with him after the scene? And why was he approaching Akira and not his scaly excuse for a manager??

Akira scrambled to fix his hazard appearance. “Uh! Yeah just give me a second!!”

He took two grand steps towards the door before spinning back on his heel to investigate the moulted, stained mirror sitting atop the cosmetics dresser. He clicked his teeth at his appearance but attempted to gather himself; tastefully opening the enclosure of his robes just enough to showcase his chest. He figured he might as well give Akechi a show, as the man had probably come to chew Akira out for marking him up and down.

Akira couldn’t find it in himself to apologize.

The idea of Akechi walking around with marks adorning his neck filled something hungry in his chest. The thought of his claim bright and red and screaming _MINE!!!_ To anyone who looked. It fed a beast inside him.

He opened his door to the sight of a prepped up Akechi, his impeccable slacks and khaki blazer had found their home once again. Akira chuckled a bit at the sight, the mix of professional attire and Akechi’s wet hair, clearly just out from the shower; juxtaposed with the deep carmine of the gifts Akira had left him. He looked… ruined.

“Akechi! To what do I owe this honour?” Akira fluttered his eyes at him playfully, poking at his strings like a child.

He frowned at Akira.

“Do you know where Leblanc Café is?”

Akira blinked. _Huh?_

And here he was thinking the man was here to chew him out. Akechi Goro was asking him out for heaven’s sake! Maybe Akira’s aching joint’s sacrifice would be worth it.

“Asking me on a date already your majesty...?” He drawled out the royalty bit, sure to make Akechi pestered. Akira bounced back on the door’s hinges as he spoke, causing the decayed metal to let out a mortifying screech.

Akechi twitched, his eyes a tight scowl, like he was reprimanding the child Akira was posing as. His hands now adorned in leather, crossed against his chest like he was resisting the urge to throttle Akira in the middle of the hallway.

Akechi’s reserved mask was back and potent as ever, though the near-invisible blush high on his cheeks alluded to his clandestine embarrassment. He really had fallen out underneath Akira, he must have been furious at himself for his complete lack of control.

Akechi Goro seemed like the type to be a control freak.

“No.” he looked a bit mad, “Did your manager not fill you in Kurusu? We have another scene this week. The script is pretty intense, we’ll need to look over it together.” His left shoe rapped irritably against the tiled ground.

Akira blinked at him, his libido dropping a bit in his chest. Ah. So, the two of them would pour over this brutish script like school children entertaining a group project…? Well that was rather disappointing.

“Ahh... I wasn’t filled in.” Akira made a vague gesture towards the studio room, “These people don’t like me all that much.” He didn’t blame them per-say. Akira was a newcomer in the industry, somehow, he had been attached with a nefarious label earlier on. It seemed to carry with him everywhere.

“I see. Well, that café should work for both of us, it’s discrete. For our purposes at least.” Akechi continued, gaze fixed on a piece of dirt ordaining his heel. Akira noted the lack of eye contact from the man but didn’t press.

Akira stuffed his hands into the robe’s pockets, causing his tasteful opening in the robe to gape out, exposing his left nipple to the cold studio air. “Yeah-yeah, read ‘bout that place in some tourist magazine, in Yogen-Jaya right…?”

Silence followed.

Akira glanced up at the man, following his line of sight to his exposed nipple. Akechi licked his lips once, before snapping up his eyes back towards Akira. “Yes!” His ears a tender pink now.

Well. Akira thought, the feelings mutual. Lingering on a glimpse of Akechi’s wrecked throat, plum with love-bites and a dark handprint painted over it all. All courtesy of one, Akira Kurusu. He could feel himself gloat in glee at the sight.

“Would noon tomorrow work with you?” He held out his phone, fiddling with it for a moment to open a new contact ID. “Here. Put your number in.” He pressed his phone (backed with a rather eye-bleeding red-and-black clad hero, courtesy of his best friend and roommate.) into Akechi’s gloved hand.

Akechi bit off a glove with his teeth, holding it between his elbow as he quickly typed out his digits. “Noon works just fine for me Kurusu.” He moved to hand Akira’s phone back to him before pausing and flipping it over to present the case.

“… Is this... Red featherman?” He questioned, voice like a mouse.

“Heh...” Akira rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed by his friend’s gag gift. “Yeah it was a gift from my-“

Akechi cut him off with gleaming eyes, suddenly wide awake and animated. “Where did he get it!? I’ve been looking for these cases everywher-!” He cut himself off, suddenly coming back into himself. Ears steaming from the ends as he recognized his slip up.

He coughed into his palm, “Ah. It’s just… my flatmate has a son who likes the show.” He looked over to the side of the hallway, the stark LED light’s above them completely giving away his reddened appearance.

 _Cute_ , Akira snorted. Leaving Akechi staring directly into the archaic moulding contents of the vending machine at the end of the hallway. “Right. Well I dunno, probably some store in central street.” He pocketed his phone after saving Akechi’s number.

Akechi looked a bit scorned; huffing and puffing into his now re-fitted gloves like it was absolute zero in the hallway. “Right well, I think it’s best I take my leave now. I’ll see you tomorrow Kurusu.” He made to shake hands before bowing out of it halfway through, instead marching back and out of Akira’s hallway.

Akira watched him go, eyes fixated on his stomping feet instead of his ludicrous behind for once. That was certainly an interaction, he pondered, closing the door of his fitting room before kneeling back onto it.

He studied the filthy mirror of the dresser for a moment, processing what had just happened. Another scene with Akechi Goro in two days, and a meeting with him tomorrow morning. Had he struck gold with God?? Usually, his luck was rotten, surely, he was going to be hit by a 16-wheeler on the way home.

He spaced out for a moment, pulling out his phone and clicking into Akechi’s contact.

**_Akira: Hey. Idiot._ **

**_Akira: Who’s bringing the script over to Leblanc?_ **

There was a lull for a moment before Akechi furiously retorted.

**_Goro: Don’t call me that Kurusu._ **

**_Goro: My manager handed me the script on my way out. Is that enough of an answer for you…?_ **

**_Akira: K. See ya then_ **

Huffing, Akira locked his phone in spite. Goro was so fussy, truly a bigger handful then he was in bed… err- couch, he corrected. He could only pray the script wasn’t as desecrate as he anticipated it would be. His joints couldn’t withstand another beating like this, much less something ten-fold!

And as for Goro, he knew the masochistic man likely got off on pain but _still,_ there was such thing as throbbing in desire and aching joint pain.

There was a darker deeper side of him that wished the script was as demented as possible, if he could virtually claim Akechi for all the camera crew and viewers to see; he’d take it! He wanted Akechi Goro to be known as his. Akira’s brain had been a messy mantra of “ _MINE!!MINEMINEMINE!!”_ while he’d been fucking Goro into the couch, trying to fuck so hard into him that, no other cock could compare, that Goro could never be satisfied by anyone besides himself.

It was some deep hungry part of him that fed off these thoughts, but he couldn’t possibly attempt to shake them off! It was like they’d been woven into his brain. Like he’d been pavlov’d into averring Akechi as his. As he said, it was a murky, ravenous part of his being.

Akira shook off the thought of Akechi bound to his bed, made to take him whenever Akira pleased. Forced awake by his relentless libido, kept full and open 24/7. Used as a cum dumpster just for Akira’s personal use.

It would be best to get home sooner then later, Akira muffled through the noise in his head, sorting through the notions of Akechi bent over backwards. God knows how long it would take him to sort out a suitable outfit for his meeting tomorrow, and to chew out Ryuji for that aforementioned “gag gift”.

\--

“What the fuck.”

Akira blinked down at the script in front of him. “What the fuck??” He repeated.

Goro, in any other situation, might’ve snickered. Instead, he sat still as a Medusa victim. Opposite to Akira, red as a rose bush primed to bloom.

“Handcuffs, fine okay, alright. Knives?!” Akira continued reading out loud, his eyes flicking up and down the script in mayhem.

“Sae had told me that it was rather brutish, but I didn’t expect- this.” Goro echoed his partner’s sentiments, adding a bit of falsetto to his words.

Ah, that was right, Sae. That would be Akechi’s lizard-esc manager then, the one who seemed primed to pounce on Akira in the studio yesterday.

“Well, she certainly hasn’t held back on your account then.” Akira smacked the script with his dominant hand twice, “Does she have a vendetta against you or something?” Because no manager with clear foresight would arrange a scene this heavy for two actors who barely knew each other!

“Didn’t think so until now, though I suppose hindsight is everything in cases like this…” Akechi drawled off, his usual leather gloves left abandoned on the side of their table, allowing him to pick at his hangnails.

Akira noted the red in his cheeks. “Or, was this something you requested to her…?” It was an innocent remark, but Akechi’s reaction was nothing if not incriminating.

He slapped both his feet down onto the ground, like he was ready to stand at the moments notice. Looking like a mutt protecting his territory. His face convulsing a bit, like a rabies patient, as he fixed Akira with a feral snarl.

“I-! Not just because of you!” He fumbled. “N-not because of you. It’s just” He hesitated, dreading his next words before they spilt from his lips. “… A minor interest of mine.” He amended himself, eyeing the shop owner hovering about the backroom like he was ready to sprint out and stop a skirmish at any second.

“You have an interest in knife-play.” Akira deadpanned.

“Kurusu!” Akechi shouted now, clearly discombobulated to hell and back. He snapped a look to the shop-owner, who was presently nowhere to be found, and back to Akira.

Akira leaned back into his booth seat. “Listen, I’m nothing if not adventurous, but we’ll need a safeword.” He dropped the stack of papers onto the table with a gentle _plop!_

Akechi kickstarted his brain at this, “Oh, uhm...” For once it seemed his snobbish mask didn’t have a response prepared for Akira, and he could only hope the mask continued to slip.

Akira leaned in closer to him, hands dancing at fingertip length away from Akechi’s own. “Especially after what happened last time. I need a way to check on you Goro.” His voice was soft and pillowy. “And titles, I want to discuss titles if we’re going this far.”

Akira gently nudged at one of Akechi’s pinky fingers with his own, a sonata of Goro moaning “Sir!”, rerunning through his head.

Akechi gulped down his coffee gluttonously, courteously paid for by Akira. (Two creams, two sugars, he noted.)

“What...” His voice wavered a bit. “What titles are you comfortable with?”

Akira quirked a loose grin at Goro, “Sir, Master…” His voice dipped down, “Daddy.” He granted a wink, a saccharine smirk slipping out at the sight of Goro’s slacked mouth.

Goro lapped at his lips as if he were a fish dropped into the middle of the desert. “I- Uhm... I think ‘Master’ would fit with this… scene.” He looked anywhere besides Akira. 

Thinking he would tease him further, Akira leaned closer, rubbing circular patterns against the top of Goro’s hands. “Oh…?” He inclined towards Akechi’s ear, tucking a lock of caramel-apple tinted hair behind his ear. “I’m sure you’d love to call me Master.” Then abruptly, he veered over Goro’s palms, clasping each hand with his own. “But I need a safeword.”

Akechi gaped at him.

“Hmm… As much as I’d like to do a traditional red-yellow-green setup, the cameras won’t allow it. But at least you’re not gagged! That would make things considerably more difficult.” Akira remarked, tapping out a nonsensical rhythm against his own coffee cup.

“Loki. Loki is my safeword.” Akechi parroted back, “and- I do have some hard limits as well Kurusu.” He fastened, sitting up straight as his formal mask took centre stage once again.

“No cuts deeper than an inch, nothing that would cause for excessive bleeding, I don’t want any permeant scarring. Assuming the knife is padded and just for show, you can hold it up to my neck. It’ll make good for the cameras.”

Akira nodded. “Loki it is then, and I highly doubt the knife won’t be padded but, better benign than repentant”, He pushed a sweet he had picked up earlier from the shop towards Goro. “Here, my treat.”

Goro looked down at the pastry and back up at Akira with a distrustful gaze, as if Akira had bribed the bakery to poison the cake.

“No rat poison, I promise.” Akira held up his crossed index and middle fingers, much like a schoolgirl would. “Figured you’d be a sweets guy.”

Goro made an approving sound. “Perhaps you aren’t as dunderheaded as you seem Kurusu.”

Akira couldn’t find it in himself to be offended. “Yeah yeah prince, enjoy your cake. I need to skim over this script again.”

They both recognized the “script” only meant a general outline. Themes and positions for the scene, most dialogue was ad-libbing that fit at the moment, and positions that looked good for the camera, and not for the one’s engaged in the act. But saylavee, such was the life of a porn star.

Not like they hadn’t made do yesterday.

“Go ahead, I did all my reading last night,” Akechi mumbled through a bite of pastry.

Akira scanned the page, eyes stagnating over the words, “handcuffed (to bed) after receiving 10-25 spanks across Kurusu’s lap- “complied with heaps of filmography jargon. He made a garroted sound, almost choking in the process of swallowing down the heat that had just burst through his chest. The mere thought of having a teary-eyed, red-rimmed Goro in his lap made him hard beyond belief. He thanked all the Gods out there that Akechi was sitting opposite to him, comfortably eating his cake and scrolling on his phone.

“Hey ‘Kechi, how many- “he made a rude gesture with his hands, “are you comfortable in the range for?”

Akechi thought for a moment, eyes dangling up at the cheap light fixtures above them. “I’d say around ten to fifteen. Anymore might make it difficult for later activities.” He tapped his fork against the top of the script. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m more than acquainted with… spanking.”

Akira took a long sip of his coffee, (no sugar or cream; he preferred the blend to speak for itself.) “Yeah, I gathered… From your previous works.” He left the conversation at that, not wanting to divulge just how much he knew about Akechi’s previous works.

Akechi however, wanted to pry more at Akira’s acquaintance.

“Oh…? Is that so Kurusu? Should I call this service to one of my lowly fans then?” He fluttered his eyelashes at Akira mischievously.

“I don’t know if I’d call myself a fan, maybe a charity case for your majesty.”

“I didn’t know you enjoyed degradation Kurusu.”

“I’m full of surprises.”

Taking the reigns for once, Akechi knelt close to him. His pastry sat half-eaten on his plate.

“Surprise me then.”

Akira stayed glued to his booth seat, his cup of coffee on the brink of shattering at his relentless grip. Akechi was testing his patience. He couldn’t decide whether he wanted to shove him off the table and take him in that measly bathroom hidden in the corner of the shop or to upright and leave. Just to teach Goro a lesson.

A separate, more discerning part of him coveted to surge forward and kiss the living-breath out of the man. Right there in that cheap backstreet’s café. The owner be dammed!

He exhaled through his nostrils, the only sound permeating through the café. Akechi sat quiet, looking up at Akira through his lashes as he took another sip of his sickly-sweet coffee.

_Brat._

Akira made a show of checking the time on his phone, “Ahh- look at the time! I really should be going soon.”

Goro smiled at him through his teeth. “Time flies when you’re having fun.”

“Oh, I’m sure we’ll match that fun tomorrow Goro.”

Akechi’s brow twitched, “Kurusu. Please leave before I resign my efforts to remain civil.”

Akira waved him off, the honied chimes of the cafe’s door signalling his abscond.

Akechi matched the chiming with his respire. Now finding himself alone in this comely café. He gave himself a moment to reflect, eyes glassy and statically focused on the half-eaten pastry. The scene with Kurusu tomorrow was rather- _racy_. The thought of losing himself again at the mercy of Kurusu’s hands, it imbued him with both heat and despair. Despair at his loss of control, his need to have a handle on things. The want for sobriety in everything that he did; and the cold, calculated circuit-board he operated.

And heat. Overwhelming _heat._

Kurusu ignited something within him. Akechi desired him like an addict would, craving his commanding hands on him, marking him, _breeding_ him. Carving his name into him. He _wanted_ it so badly. Needed Akira to dispel this dreaded heat inside him, make him complete. He felt like a schoolgirl battling with a petty crush, he’d known this man for under 36 hours and yet he felt infallible to him. Trusting.

Akechi was saturated in anxious excitement for tomorrow’s scene. Would Akira be cruel and unrelenting? Would he be gentle and kind? The fantasies boggled up his head, like a self-multiplying thought bubble.

He needed to get a handle on things if he didn’t want to make a complete mess of himself tomorrow. Falling apart the moment Kurusu put his hands on him. Crumbling at the mere thought of Akira’s snarky remarks.

Akira got him floaty, that was no question.

He made him feel like he was two feet deep in quicksand. Like a sinkhole was closing in over his head as he fell deeper and deeper into that floaty headspace. Something he’d never truly done with anyone else. It frightened him and equally roused a dragon lurking in his chest. Guarding a treasure that to which Kurusu held the key.

They had been cavorting around each other for days now, each memorandum a nippit closer to the real conversation they wanted; but were too timorous to have.

Akechi resigned himself, finishing off his coffee in one gulp. For once in his contrived life, he decided he didn’t need a plan.

\--

“Boy did he do a number on you.”

The director eyed him up, Goro’s neck had faded to a miserable candy-lilac. Just right for the scene at hand, but surely a pain to endure. It looked like he’d gotten into a fight with a grizzly bear and lost. Fortunately, the marks were concentrated around his neck and thighs, any other blemishes were few and far between.

“Lucky for our purposes of course, but jeez.” The director continued, hand poised under his jaw, as if to stroke a factious goatee.

“Kurusu made his mark alright.” Goro retorted back, hands crossing over himself in a slight of insecurity. The man of the hour had yet to arrive on set. Likely still getting probed by the cosmetics team in his measly fitting room.

Akechi hadn’t gotten much of a look last time, but it certainly didn’t shout “luxury villa”.

“-Akechi, we’ll get you over here in a moment. Kurusu should be out in a few minutes- he’s just wrapping up with cosmetics.” A crew member fiddling with a microphone yelled out at him.

Goro nodded at the man shrewdly, plucking at his robes with his right hand. Oh, how he wished for the secure weight of his gloves right now. Anxiety ricocheted through his body like a lightning bolt using him as a vessel.

His knees shook a bit, his dominant hand needling into his thigh with dull nails. Fresh manicure lost on him now, what with his anxious picking last night.

“Hey. ‘Kechi, you good?”

Goro flinched at the sound of Kurusu’s voice. “Uh- yeah just nerves you know?” Turning to look at him now, before stopping in his tracks.

He gawked at the sight that met him.

Akira’s usual unruly curls had been gelled back expertly, giving him a provisional authoritarian guise. And was that? _Eyeliner?_ He certainly looked delectable, in all phrases of the word.

Kurusu raised a brow at his expression, “Akechi Goro? Getting stage fright…? Oh, heavens me!! Pardon me, good sir! I seem to have fallen into an alternate reality.” He made a melodramatic maiden gesture, fanning himself much like damsels in noir films would.

Akechi pushed at him, shushing his antics, “Your idiocy can only be tolerated by those with the strongest wills Kurusu.”

“Are you calling yourself strong-willed?”

Akira wiggled his brows at him like he was inviting him to a duel of some sort.

Now Akechi _really_ wished he had his gloves on him. Just to throw the garment at Akira’s ludicrous face.

“I don’t recall ever saying that.”

“Ah! But you just did your majesty.”

“Please provide evidence to these, baseless claims…” Akechi drawled off, before adding a meek- “peasant.”

Akira gasped in mock delirium. Grabbing at his chest, which was garnished with a body-hugging black turtleneck. The sleeves stylishly cut off to add much-needed harlotry.

His eyes lingered at the spectacle of Akira’s muscular arms, lean, but clearly burly enough to throw him nine yards. Akechi shivered a bit at the thought of Akira manhandling him.

“But really Goro, are you alright?” Akira swiftly crowded him in trepidation - “Have you eaten? Are you hydrated?” He relentlessly mother-henned.

“I’m fine Kurusu, really.” Akechi shoved off his concern.

Akira took his reassurances with a grain of salt, noting Akechi’s pallid complexation.

“Akira.”

“Huh?”

“Please, call me Akira. I think we’ve garnered it. I’ve been balls deep inside you, no need to be overly formal.”

Akechi paused at this. “I- I have called you Akira.”

“Few and far between!! I meant as friends Goro, real friends.” His voice was almost drowned out by the crew moving furniture onto the set.

“I’ll try my best,” Akechi said, honestly for once.

Akira huffed at this. Shoulders dropping a bit. “We’ll work on it.”

Akechi didn’t dare share his actual reservations with Akira. Worried about losing himself again, and more notably; worried that he wanted it.

The silence that fell between them was anything but comfortable, only halved in two when the props manager whistled Akira over. Leaving Goro alone in his casting chair, picking lint off his robe like it was a deeply strenuous task.

“You two have issues.” The director commentated, looking up at Akechi from his position on the ground, fiddling with twin-wires.

Akechi married his tongue and teeth, making a clicking sound, “comes with the territory.”

The director snorted out a conceited chuckle, plugging the wires into ground sockets. “All you folks are a bit messed up- “he tapped at his widow’s peak, “in here. Just a bit rocked I’d say.”

Goro sat up, shuffling a bit closer to the man. “Suggesting my being dropped as a child lead to my altruistic career aspirations…?”

The man heaved out an exhale at his riposte. “Give it a rest kid- and go make yourself useful on set.” He brandished Akechi out of his back-bracing chair and onto the production set with a wave.

The demented script really did the scenery no justice. It was like he’d walked into a tawdry horror movie set, all dark with carmine lighting, giving off this callous vampire-esc aesthetic.

They’d graciously been given a bed for the scene, a regal four-poster with metal posts curtaining at the sides. It gave a grand illusion for the cameras, with the moody lighting bouncing off well with the crushed velvet of the drapes, all lined with a cheap black lace; ironed into imperial delicacy.

It was all a bit cushy for Goro but still, far better than the couch.

He’d left his robe on the casting chair, now donned in a skimpy outfit, consisting of a constrictive wife-beater and short shorts. If the scene was meant to portray a comely victim, he certainly looked the part.

The shiners Kurusu had gifted him with only furthered the deception.

Cosmetics had opted to tie his hair up this time around, wanting to avoid another mess with Akira’s spunk and his hair. (Goro couldn’t have possibly swallowed all of Akira’s load, it was like that man was a gushing hose!) Akechi’s get-up wasn’t wasted on the crew, a few of them openly leering at him like he was a rare steak.

Akechi made a face, all but sneering at the men as he made his way towards the cot. The scene opened with him being waken up roughly by his captor, and then forced to fuck him at knife point.

Ah yes, the knife. Akechi peeked over at Akira and the prop manager, barely making them out through the opening of the curtains. The box cutter Kurusu was juggling around looked padded and matched the likeness of cardboard.

Akechi felt a pang of disappointment at the sight, but hurriedly shooed off this deranged part of himself. A genuine knife would be needlessly risky and perilous! He smacked his metaphorical consciousness with a broom.

His internal distress was clearly reflected in his face, as Akira looked up at him a bit strangely. Blinking in bizarre fashion. “Ready to go Goro?!!” He had cupped his hands together as a makeshift-speaker, hollering at him across set.

Akechi gave him a lukewarm thumbs up, not wanting to bellow back. Not that he needed to, as Akira soon jogged right up to the fanciful foot of the bed. He gave Akechi a grand big smack on the shoulder, an act of assurance. Momentarily dispelling the rotten thoughts that had begun clouding Goro’s head.

“All ready?” He echoed, standing with his hands to his hips, his naked triceps looked quixotic in the flushed lighting. Akechi felt his ears go pink.

“Mmm- ready now that you’re here…”

“Good.” Akira played off his partners flirtatious tone, instead deciding to mother-hen him for a second time. “And remind me what your safeword is?” His tone was all hardy, Goro had no trouble believing this man as the dominant he depicted himself as. A small meek part of him squeaked, conjuring up a fantasy where Kurusu dominated him, without a camera crew or studio backing them. Just the two of them in his decaying apartment with tobacco stains drooling down the paint. Just the two of them, with all the time in the world to each-other.

“Kurusu… I’m not some- “Akira tutted him, flicking at his exposed ear in contempt.

“Safeword Goro, I need to be _positively_ sure you know you can tap out at any time.”

Akechi narrowed his eyes, creasing his carefully placed rouge. “Safeword; Loki. Though, I find it a bit offensive you think I’d call for it Kurusu.”

Akira straightened his back, “You- I swear to god- you should be glad this knife isn’t real Goro. Calling your safeword isn’t anything you should feel ashamed for.”

“Is that a threat Kurusu?” He conveniently skipping over Akira’s niceties.

Akira took a step closer.

“Depends… Do you _want_ it to be?”

A pregnant pause stretched the space between them, standing almost nose to nose. Without the background noise of the crew to subdue them, they’d surely be wrought in a fist fight. They might just engage each other despite the studio set! 

Clearly trying to moderate the two actors, the director called for a five, voice a bit pitchy in his efforts to cool them down. A five signalled that the filming was about to start, and to get in positions.

The two men took a breather, stepping away from each other. Akechi falling back onto the cot rather unceremoniously, only to watch Akira slither out from the set, eyes still locked with his own. Likely taking his position outside the false door. Where he would enter in through knocking the door off its hinges.

Akechi could not stress enough, the demented nature of this scene.

He took his place on the cot, laying on his side with the sheets (a reedy rust colour-to match the curtains) up to his face. To shield his eyes from any far-reaching woodchips caused by Akira’s grand entrance.

Akechi found it a bit obtuse that he was donned in such mediocre attire compared to his so-called _attacker_ , but the director had clearly been aiming for some level of camp with this scene. What with the morose lighting and Christian literature lining the wall.

“Stations!” The director yelled out, slashing through Akechi’s inner monologue. The crew members scuttled around like a kitchenette during rush hour. Tweaking at the lights, double checking the microphone placements, and pampering up the drapes.

Akechi nestled further into his bedsheets, letting his persona wash over him. He was a meek little houseboy who was about to have his apartment broken into and roughly fucked at knifepoint. Akechi gingered up his tear ducts, waterworks ready to go at any instant.

He needed to look lachrymal and prone, like a doll worthy of punishment.

“ANNNNNND! ACTION!”

Goro shut his eyes, and when he opened them, he _was_ that docile houseboy he had envisioned.

There was a strange knocking at his door, but at this hour…? He dared not open it. He’d heard about sightings of murderers and gang members around his homely apartment… The mere idea caused his chest to fill with dread. Fear now quaking through him as he sat up, his doorknob clearly being fiddled with.

“Hel-hello? Who’s there…?” He let out a reedy whine, full of mortification. His hands trembling where they clutched at his sheets.

The doorknob had ceased in its juggling, instead _ear-splitting_ , vehement slams against his door reverberated throughout the apartment. Someone was trying to get in.

A wretched sob exploded from Goro’s throat, tears springing to his eyes. “Please!! Who are you! What do you want?” He bellowed now, wetness dribbling from his cheeks onto his sheets.

His attacker didn’t respond verbally, only retorting with a thunderous _KICK!_ at Goro’s door.

Akechi didn’t make a move, shocked still in his fright. His muscles pulled up tight with his sympathetic nervous system’s response, breath wobbly. It didn’t help that he could barely make out the door amidst his tears.

Finally, the door was rocked off its hinges. _BLAM!!_ Causing his whole room to shake and vibrate. Fixtures falling off his wall, triggering his literature to crumble to the ground in heaps.

“Please!!! Please don’t hurt me!” Goro choked out, looking at his attacker head on. He bared no mask nor tinted sunglasses, showing his face freely like he couldn’t give less of a damn.

“Noisy bitch.” His attacker spit at him, wrestling him up and out of his sheets with ease. Goro could see the way his arms rippled and flexed at the movement. This man… This man could kill him!!

Goro wailed in anguish, wriggling around in the man’s hold. “Let me go!! Let me go!!”

Abruptly, a cold metallic was at his throat, just on the periphery of cutting into his neck.

Akechi stopped his thrashing instantly. Taking a wide gulp, his sobs coming out hushed and expurgated.

“Ahh… You see? See what happens when you try and yell for help?” His assailant twisted the knife so that it lay dull against his skin, tracing the circumference of his throat.

“You try to run, try to yell for anyone, I’ll kill you. I’ll slit your fucking throat right here and leave you alone in this filthy apartment to bleed out.” Akechi whimpered at this, only to have the man shush him with a finger, popping it into his mouth like a pacifier.

“Now either you stay quiet like I told you, or I’m gonna have to get _mean_.”

Akechi was shocked stagnant, not venturing to bite into the finger between his teeth. Leaving it on his tongue like an unwanted vegetable. In his fright, he made no attempt to say anything, knowing it would be muffled by the digit in his mouth either way.

His vision was blurred around the edges, like a vignette had been placed over his eyes. How could this be happening? To him of all people. Why him?? What had he done to deserve this??

A sob wracked through his body, too quick for Akechi to halt before it spilt his lips.

“What the fuck did I just say?” His captor sounded infuriated, pushing the dull edge of the knife further into his skin, showing no mercy. 

Akechi made a muffled plea. _Please!! I didn’t mean it! I’m sorry! Please… Please don’t kill me!!_

His pleading was all but lost on his attacker, only muffled whines and whimpers left his lips, nothing even close to coherent.

“You can’t listen, can you?” He shoved the finger in deeper, Goro’s gag reflex flickered up at him, screaming at him! Forbidding him to go any further.

But he had no say in the matter.

“If you can’t listen, I’ll just have to teach you to”, and with this, the attacker rammed in his finger to the base of his knuckle. Causing Goro to spasm and writhe at the invasion, choking on the single digit suddenly purged into his esophagus.

The man twisted his body like he was a puppet, forcing him face-down on his bed. Only removing his finger after observing Goro pathetically shudder for a minute, barely able to get in any air from his position.

“You know I was only here to rob the place, but since you’ve decided to be so _fucking_ disrespectful to me… I might have to rethink my kindness.” His hands plucked at Goro’s neck, “What are these? Hickies?? Don’t tell me your man ran a truck over you and then kicked you out!” He chuckled darkly at Goro’s answering whimpers.

“Ohh… I might just have to take his sloppy seconds. You look to good to pass up.” He snapped the elastic band of Goro’s shorts. Debating whether to slip them clean off and get on with the main course or to keep playing with him. Like this man beneath him was just a toy for him to amuse himself with and not a living, breathing person.

“Please… No. I-I don’t want this!!” Goro pleaded with him.

“Oh…? I didn’t say my pet could speak. It’s like you’re asking for a beating.” The man knelt on Goro’s back, breath ghosting at the top of his spine, causing the hairs on the back of his arms to raise.

Goro whimpered at the man trying to goad him into playing along with his game. Shoulders taut with unleashed cries.

“No… No please don’t hurt me! I’ll… I’ll be good. I swear. Please don’t kill me. Please!!”

The assailant groaned at this, “mmm, better. Would you be a good pup for me?”

Akechi nodded, rubbing his face raw into his sheets. “Yes!! I’ll be good. I’ll be- AHH!!!” His train of thought derailed with the man biting into his neck brutally.

“I may have resigned myself to sloppy seconds, but that doesn’t mean your not mine by any means. In fact, if you’re good for me, I’ll make sure you never see that fucker again. I’ll find whatever garbage scum kicked you out and serve you his head on a stick. Just you be good for me, you’ll see. You’re my property now.”

“I-I” Akechi sobbed freely into the mattress now, his neck felt like he’d been set on fire. He was in utter agony. “I-PLEASE!!! LET ME GO!!” His snot and mucous was mixed with everything, he could barely see a foot in front of himself. “Please!! I haven’t done anything wrong! You can take this apartment! Take it apart!! Rip it to pieces, do whatever you want just PLEASE!! Let me go please-please!” His sobbing had matched up with his heaves, he felt like he was on the urge of passing out. Like he was going to die at any second. Terror completely consumed him.

“You don’t learn shit do you. Are you a fucking dog that needs to be trained? I will treat you like a mutt if you decide to act like one!!” The man pulled him up by his ponytail, straining Goro’s neck. Akechi wished his neck snapped clean off, just to stop this hell from transcribing. He wouldn’t be able to take it!! He couldn’t!!

“You asked for it mutt.” The man snarled out, pushing off Goro’s back to kneel at the foot of the bed. Eyes locked on his supple ass currently snaring for escape, wriggling around like he’d be able to throw him off somehow. The idea was so pathetic a snort unknowingly escaped him.

“Don’t think you’re going anywhere cunt, you asked to be taught a lesson, I’m just doing my civil duty.”

The man pulled down Goro’s shorts with relative ease, leaving the fabric locked around his ankles.

“A disobedient little boy like you deserves all the righteous judgement you can get. Boys your type never learn, they just keep messing up. Failures, you lot are. Deserve to be bred into submission. Your worth nothing else in society.” His tone was splitting, anger from Goro’s disobedience seeping out with every word.

Goro wailed, despite everything; the terror, the pain and anguish, his cock throbbed at the deprived degradation. He could feel blood pulsing to his cock despite his abject horror.

Some small, depraved part of him wanted this. _Craved_ this. He quaked with his internal conflict, head swaying side to side like he was partaking in a virtual rollercoaster. He looked off his rocker.

“I… please. No… No-nono!!! I can’t take it!! I’ll die!! I’ll die!!!” Akechi begged his attacker, who looked on in contempt at the pitiful display.

“You’re pathetic.”

Goro exhaled greedily at this, barely comprehending what was up from down anymore.

Without much resistance, the assailant pulled Goro onto his lap, still face down on the mattress, the only modification now being that his bare ass was presented ripe for the man. Goro’s greedy cock lay suffocated between his body and the man’s thighs. If his assailant felt his erection, he didn’t say anything.

“Fuck-puppets like you deserve to be punished. Acting out like I can’t just slice your throat open on the spot. You’re fucking pathetic.” He lay his hands on Goro’s posterior, dormant with malice treading just underneath the surface.

Goro dare not make a sound in defiance, swallowing down the words being spoon-fed to him.

“Now I’m going to give you ten hits. And if you move a muscle, if you make a sound, if you do anything besides thank me for my kindness, I’ll add another five.”

The man exhaled slowly, running his hands up and down Goro’s pert cheeks.

“Do you understand mutt? Give me an answer.”

Goro breathed through his teeth, eyes filled with tears bred from dread and longing. He was utterly disgusted with himself.

“Y-yes… I understand. Thank you, mister.” He tacked on the honorific with grease in his voice. A vile expression coaxing his lips up, switching between a smile and a frown at each moments pass.

The man never answered back, only raising his hand with finality. Landing a blow on Akechi’s cheeks with a _SMACK!!_

Goro choked down a whine, biting furiously on his bottom lip. “T-thank you mister.”

“One.” His aggressor answered, not giving Goro a moment of refuge before whipping his hand down again. “Two.”

Tears blocked anything Goro’s eyes could perceive, his joints trembling every so slightly. “Y-yes. Thank… thank you mister.”

The man brings his hand down again, much harder this time.

“Three.”

The room is quiet all for the exception of Goro’s ragged breathing. Chest clearly filled with concealed sobs; he has to concentrate all his will to not jump up at this hit.

His ass _hurts._ He feels deranged, out of his mind. “I-I… Thank you s-sir.” He’s drawling his words, his thoughts spilling from his ears.

The man remains ever so silent. The next two hits come in succession of each other.

“Four.”

Left cheek.

“Five.”

Right cheek.

Goro’s hands are trembling, like he’s truly gone psychotic. Tears stem down his face, gushing freely from his ducts. “Oh!! Than-thankyouthankyou mister…” He figures each smack should be granted with its own acknowledgment.

The sixth strike is delayed, like the man was contemplating its position on his grandiose painting.

The sixth hit is the worst one yet, centered towards the top of his thigh, and it is _excoriating_.

Akechi aches in all senses of the word. His cock pulses hard now. Between it’s smothering amongst two bodies, his cock feels like it gained its own heartbeat.

“Hah-thank! Thank you, mister.” Akechi feels like he’s beginning to lose his way, like he’s going through a tunnel he won’t be able to backtrack.

The man laid his hands still on Goro’s cheeks, before finally breaking his silence.

“Are you enjoying this? I can feel your cock pulsing against me mutt. I bet you’re as wet as a girl too. Do you want this? Want to be treated as an invalid, fucked until you can’t think about anything but cock?”

Goro gave no answer.

“Mmm… I see why your man kicked you out after he had his way with you. You’re nothing more than a sex doll, a filthy miserable fuck-puppet.” He brandished his words with a seventh slap.

Akechi lay silent, like he’d fallen into a catatonic state. His attacker knelt adjacent to his right ear, biting at the top of his lobe in vehemence. “Use your words mutt. What do you say to _Master_ when he gives you a gift?” He curved his hands around Goro’s bruising cheeks, like a caress.

This caught Akechi off guard. _Master?_ His attacker wanted him to call him Master…? He rolled the title along his tongue, relishing in the way it made him feel like nothing. Making him feel nameless, like a slave who only lived to serve his owner.

His cock twitched under his thigh.

“Ma-mahhh… Master, thank you master. Thank you for this gift master!! I love it! I love it so much massterr…!” Akechi’s words were runny, like an unchecked hose. He felt lost in this plane, forgetting who he was, forgetting everything except for the man controlling him. _Using_ him. Just like he deserved.

“Much better.” The man cooed at him, “that’s a good boy!” His praise was served with an eight slap. Stringent and hard against Goro’s ass cheeks, surely bruising them a regal purple to match his neck.

Goro groaned at this, forgetting his assailant’s orders. Undulating against the man’s thigh with reckless abandon. “Oh!! Hah—ah.. Thank you!! Thank you Master!!”

He received a harsh yank on his ponytail for his outburst. “Fucking mutt! Did you forget your orders already?! I warned you already.” He let loose another sequence of spankings, adding up the total to ten now. “You mess up one more time and I won’t be so lenient.” The knife that lay discarded on the floor picked Goro’s periphery, he felt a _twang!!_ Go off in his heart.

“Mutt.” The man spit the word at Akechi with all the venom he could muster. “Count your last five slaps, not a word else. If you dare fucking say anything besides a number, I’ll slice your head right here and use your dead body as a petrified statue.”

Goro felt his tears pick up again, and yet, despite everything. His cock still stood at attention, arguably harder now then earlier. He was sick. He was a vile, vile boy. He was disgusting!!

He deserved to be put in his place.

He should only live to serve his master!!

He was nothing more than a slave.

Akechi made minuscule nods to show he understood, face uncouthly rubbing into his soiled sheets. He really did look like a filthy mutt.

The eleventh spank was dealt to his starboard cheek, bouncing off his skin and seemingly setting him ablaze.

“El- _hhha_ -eleven!”

He sounded askew, like a broken toy.

Another smack, now his other cheek.

“Twelve.”

His hair was yanked at again, but no words were spoken, though Akechi could fill in his orders himself. “Thank-thank you Master!”

They cycled through the last slaps on this instruction. Each spank hurt more than the last, drawing up more and more tears until Goro felt like he was face down in a swimming pool. His hips undulated freely now, desperately searching for friction to get him off. The man made no move to stop his frantic, disparaging hip-thrusts, so Goro presumed he was in the clear.

Not that he could draw any rational conclusions right now. His head was high up in the clouds, frolicking between levels of pain and pleasure. He felt loftier than he’d ever felt. Like he was barely alive… Like his mind was truly broken.

After the final smack was dealt, Goro let out a sigh of relief… Maybe master would finally give him release? Though he’d been so bad… A disobedient slave. Maybe he’d get no release at all! He’d have to exist on the edge like this until he blacked out!! He didn’t know if he could handle that likelihood.

His mind was a symphony of disjointed rambles.

His master folded him up and over, wanting to get a look on his puppet’s face after its punishment.

Goro looked fucked out. Like he’d been shared between a college frat party and then dumped into the street, his eyes rolled back and mouth askew. Drool and tears had completely soiled where his face had sat during his spankings.

The man slapped at the slave’s face, attempting to wake him up from whatever headspace he had fallen into.

“Mmm…? Hhaah-nnuh?? Maahh-Master?? Thank you master! Thank you for my punishment… I learned my lesson!! I’ll never disobey you again!!” His head oscillated side to side, a syrupy beam plastered on his flushed cheeks.

Goro’s mind was shattered.

His Master tutted at him, stroking up his waist to tease at his nipples. “Look at these…” He sing-songed, “These pink nubs are smiling up at me! They’re so happy to see Master…” He latched his mouth onto one of Goro’s nipples, pulling and lapping at his teat like he was a suckling milk out of it.

“Oh! Oh _oh_!! Master yes!! My nipples want you so bad! They’re begging for you Master!! Look how sen- _ah!!-_ sensitive they are for you!!” Goro whined, wanting to grab at his Master’s hair and force him down onto his nipples. Oh, it felt so good!!

“Your nipples are sensitive like a girl’s…” His Master commentated, pulling away from his treat with a barely audible _pop!_

“Yes!! Yesss they are!” Goro thrashed about, his other nipple now been rolled under his Master’s thumb, sticky with his spit. His hand failing about, trying to grip at anything in their path, whether that be the soiled bedsheets or his Master’s slicked back hair.

“Mmm… You make a good mutt once you’ve been trained.” He placed a wet kiss on the nipple he was currently entertaining. “Wonder what other parts of you are like a girl’s…” He trailed off his query, eyes sprawling down to Goro’s erect cock. Precum smattered all around his thighs, the head of his cock purpling just a bit at his yearning.

The man couldn’t help but notice the smattering of violet tinted bite-marks on the inside of his slave’s thighs. He felt a cold fury pass through him at the sight. This mutt was his!! How dare someone else have him!! Goro was _his!!_

The man’s voice dipped down an octave, “looks like that fucker left his mark here too…” He pinched at one of the bruises. “Tell me Mutt… was there anything he hadn’t done to you?? Or are you so pathetic you gave him everything you are?”

Goro’s looked back at him, eyes glassy and blank. Clearly the man wasn’t going to get an answer out of him.

He stood up from the cot, reaching into his back pocket to fiddle around, searching for something. Goro, only just detecting the lack of heat against his own, twisted to look at his Master with a questioning glance, eyes eclectic and muddled. 

“Master…? Did I do something wrong?” His bottom lip wobbled. A wayward hand reaching up to prod at his strawberry-tinted nipples, still rigid with the chilly air of the apartment reacting with leftover spit.

“No-no my darling mutt. Master just wants to stake his claim on you, make it clear and easy for everyone to see.” His voice was pitched like this was an everyday conversation, and Goro, with his disarrayed mind, didn’t think anything of it.

“Ohh!! Master wants me to be his?? I am!! I am-I am!! I’m allll yours Master!” If Goro were a dog, his tail would be wagging.

“That’s right.” His Master reassured, coming closer to the bed now, his fiddling with his back pocket all but ceased. “Do Master a favour and spread your arms up for me, like a starfish. Would you do that for me?”

Akechi hurriedly arranged himself, giggling like some virginal schoolgirl. He wiggled his hips enticingly, cock swaying back and forth like a pendulum. He was oddly hypnotic for a good for nothing fuck-puppet.

“That’s a good boy.” His Master praised, pulling out a pair of handcuffs from behind his back. “Keep your arms spread for me mutt, don’t move until I tell you to.”

His riposte was an answering whimper. “Yes Master…!”

The man crawled on top of his slave, feet either side of his chest, pushing him down into the mattress. A depositary reminder of who was in control.

He took each hand in a cufflink and joined it with the thin bed posts on either side of his body, leaving Goro in the dead centre of his cot, erect cock dibbling at the seams and his ass a pleasant ache. He was in heaven!! His arms felt stretched, and he certainly couldn’t move at all in this position. Whatever his Master had planned, he would have to take it! It filled him with avaricious excitement. His cock jerking about like he’d been electrocuted.

“Mmm… There we go,” his master shuffled down Goro’s body, folding up his knees to get a pristine view of his hole. “Ohh, gorgeous. Just as I said! You’re as wet as a girl down here.”

He shifted down the bed, positioning his face a hair’s length from Goro’s pulsing entrance.

“Look at my slave’s hole!! So happy to see its Master…” He spat into his hands, lathering his spit on Goro’s entrance like a dog marking its territory.

The man continued praising and fawning over Goro’s hole, “it’s winking at me, I think it’s asking to be used.” He peered up at Goro, a grease filled smirk filling his face when he saw Akechi’s bashful look, cheeks all flushed and glossy.

“Please…” He squeaked out in a meek virginal tone, “please… Give it to me Master…! Give me your cock Master! Use me!!” He gained confidence with each passing plead, hands jerking at his cuffs like he wanted to fly into his owner’s lap.

Truly a personified mutt. An easily excitable one at that.

“Good boy…” He breathed into his mutt’s hole. Dipping closer to lick a fat stripe along the entrance. Goro tasted like musk and submission, it was addicting.

The man dived into Goro’s ass like a starved prisoner on death row, licking and lapping into his hole with gluttony.

“Ah! That’s!! Your-your tongue!! Maa!!! Master!! Your tongue- it’s thrusting so deep into me!! I’m being plowed into with my owners’ tongue! Ahhh- _hahh_ -nnghh… Yess!!”

His Master made a hum of approval.

He nudged his nose between Goro’s cheeks, spreading them with his hands, folding his slave’s legs up to his chest. He was using him like a sex doll, using him to get anything he wanted.

He pulled out his tongue to the tip, before thrusting in again, breathing in Goro’s scent as deep as he could. He fucked Goro with his tongue, drool graciously coating his chin in his efforts.

Goro was pulling at his restraints like a caged animal, moaning and howling at the tongue inside him. Hips desperately trying to thrust back against his Master’s tongue. His folded-up position allowed his cock to slaver precum onto his front and below, only further desecrating his sheets.

“Maa!! Master-your-ahhhh! Your tongue!!” Goro could barely form words, deconstructed pleas falling from his lips like a popsicle in summer.

Finally approving of Goro’s sloppy cunt, his Master released his hole with a slight puckering sound. Like Akechi’s hole was weeping in defeat, waving a white flag of surrender.

“Your cunt is so wet for me mutt, are you in heat?”

“Yes!! Yes!! Need you- _nnuuuhh_ \- need you Master!!”

“Begging for my cock like a bitch in heat, aren’t you? Your cunt is so sloppy and loose, it’s practically inviting me in! It’s begging to be used!!”

Goro yanked at his restraints, “ohhah-ah! _Yes_ Master. Usemeuseme!! All I want is for you to use me as your fleshlight! Your cum-dump!! I’m nothing more than a filthy mutt for you Master!!”

With this, the man resumed his pace with Goro’s ass. Slurping and sucking at it with all his muster. Really putting his elbows into it, prodding deep enough with his tongue that his essence could never be separated from Goro. That even after death, Goro would be marked as _his_.

His property, his slave.

“You!! Oh-oh!! Master!! God- oh my god. It’s too much!! I need! Haaahh. I need you Master!!”

The man grabbed at Goro’s cock with one hand, his other taking residence at the cusp of Goro’s knees. Holding them up and away from his antics. He rimmed Goro with a wildness, relishing in the gurgles coming from his mutt.

“Mah!! _Oh_! Oh! Masster…!” Goro yelped, his cock gushing out precum like a fountain. His Master pulled back to spit into his hand, and then continued his rapacious eating. Hand gliding up to rub his spit into Goro’s slit.

Oh, what he’d do to have lubed gauze at this moment…

“Oh! Master your hand! Your- _fuck_ \- your hand!!” Goro tugged at his restraints again, the stretch in his arms was practically non-existent now, the only thing on Akechi’s mind was cock. His Master’s cock inside him, filling him up, _breeding_ him. He wanted it so badly!! But he didn’t know if he could wait, he felt like he was going to burst!! He needed to ask Master for permission to come!!

“P-puh..nnhgn- Master! Per-uuaanhh- oh!!” He sputtered.

His former attacker pushed down on his legs, straining Goro’s muscles even more so. This combined with the pulsing of his cock and throbbing ass, Goro almost lost himself. His hands fluttered open and shut in their constraints. The sharp metal surely cutting into his wrists with how hard he was pulling at them.

 _Good_. His Master thought.

Goro would forever be besmeared as his. The thought got the man rock hard; his loose cargo pants did nothing to hide his obvious bulge.

“Uhngn!! Master’s cock!! Master is so happy to see me, his cock is pulsing with blood, he wants me so badly! Please- have me Master!! Use me!! Use me as your cum-dump, as your public urinal, as your slave!! I’m indebted to your kindness Master, use me as you wish!!”

God he was noisy. The attacker’s cock spent a moment envious of his mouth, as it was wrapped around Goro’s wet hole so tightly, suckling at everything he had. His sweet musk, his whines, his pleads. For a moment he deliberated shutting up Goro with his cock, shoving in his member between those slobbery, swollen lips and cutting off Goro’s air supply. Fucking Goro with his cock until he passed out, until his fists stopped beating against the bed frame in desperation and went limp. When his eyes rolled into the back of his head and mouth went slack.

He considered it.

Just for a moment. Before hastening his strokes, licking fat stripes into his mutt’s ass with his tongue, and thumbing just underneath Goro’s slit. Right where he would be most sensitive. He wanted to feel Goro explode under his tongue, just from his own ministrations. He wanted his slave’s hole to pucker and throb around his organ, to rub his own semen into his skin like a filthy street-dog. Because that’s all Goro was. Nothing more than a cock-slut for him to break.

“I! I- _hahh_ -Mastuuhhngg-Please!! I’m gonna burst!! I’m gonna come pleaplease!” Goro’s hips undulated under his tongue at a wicked pace, hysterically searching for his climax. “Per-hhggugk- Master…? May I have p-permission to come? Please!! Please please!!”

The man emerged from Goro’s spread thighs, still moving his fist up and down Goro’s cock. His chin was wet with Goro’s juices and his own spit, he looked nalaiq. His eyes wide and dilated; the initial steel-grey irises were almost completely consumed by his pupil. Giving him a _wild_ look, not abetted by the deviled smirk on his face.

“Mmm- go ahead mutt. You’ve earned it.”

With his authorization, Goro threw his head back, cock almost immediately exploding onto his chest, his hole gaping around nothing. In his folded-up position, Goro’s spunk got all over his face and chest, and his Master took great pleasure in rubbing it into his skin.

The man made a disconcerted face, saddened that his tongue missed out on Goro’s orgasm. The boy was still shuddering, long after his pretty cunt had stopped spurting. His eyes rolled up to the whites, drool collecting under his chin. He looked like a prostitute, a sex-slave, a pathetic little houseboy who’d just been rimmed out of his mind.

But his Master wasn’t done yet.

He still hadn’t gotten his release, and he planned to use Goro’s body as a cum-dispenser until he was satisfied. No matter how long it took, even if the boy passed out on his cock, he’d continue pumping him full of seed.

“Good boy… Such a good boy for Master.” He praised, stroking at his pet’s pulsating hole. Slipping his fingers in and out, using Goro’s cum and his spit as make-shift lube.

“Unngn-ffuffhh-thank you…! Thank you Master, for letting me come.” With his gratitude articulated, Goro let his head roll back. His head clearly in a fog and his hips twitching in overstimulation. 

Did he think they were done?

His Master stifled a chuckle, “I’m not satisfied yet mutt, did you think you could just ease off? Relax?”

This got Goro’s attention. “Wahh?? N-no!! No! I didn’t think thaaht!!” His voice was all dribble, his exhaustion spilling out at the sides. To be fair, he had endured 15 (measly) spanks and a (mediocre) rimming job, it only made sense that a whore as pathetic as he was all tuckered out now. Master didn’t realize he was saying this all out loud until his judgments were interrupted by a loud keen.

“No!!! I’m not pathetic!!” If Goro had a foot on the ground, he would be stomping it. “I want to be good for you!! Good for Master! I said you could use me! So, use me!! Make me your cum-dispensary!!” His voice was all high and whiny, like a child throwing a temper-tantrum.

The man soared forward, his grip on Goro’s legs firm, like a pseudo-warning. “Watch your tone mutt, if you want my cock that much, you’ll have to be polite.” Akechi made a sound of oblige but was cut off by his attacker slamming his lips into his.

“Mmummph!! Mmmff!!”

His Master bit down harshly on his lip, like he was issuing a punishment. Goro felt a bit like he’d been put on time out, if only his hands were free. He’d bang them against his Master’s chest and beg him for more. He wanted more!!

The man pulled away with a grin, a line of saliva still connecting the two of them, before it unceremoniously dropped onto Goro’s chest to join his assemblage of bodily fluids.

He really did look like a lewd token-dispensary.

Goro pulled a pout, eyes shiny and red and a bit glassed out from absolutely everything that had been done to him that evening, “please Master...? Would you give me your cock? I need it so bad!! I want your thick cock inside me, filling me up! Spill your load into me a dozen times, I don’t care what you do to me!! Please just give me your cock!”

“Alright- alright calm down mutt, you’ll get Master’s cock when I feel like you’ve worked for it.”

His slave voraciously thrashed around in his restraints as an answer, whining and weeping at his Master’s refusal to mate him. His rejection to fuck Goro like he wanted. Like he deserved!!

“Please!! Want it-want it!! Goro whimpered, looking especially pathetic in the moonlight.

His Master shushed him, filling his hole with his fingers again. Thrusting in loose and sloppily, intentionally making it impossible for Goro to get off with his weak prods, but just enough to make his mind unravel.

“Uhhnuh-nn-nooo!!” He wailed, “harder!! That’s not enough Master!!”

The man took Goro’s jaw in his hands, curling his nails into the skin hard enough to leave an impression, “I should just shove my cock in here, get you to shut the fuck up for once. Noisy mutt, what do you not understand? Can you not follow the simplest of orders? I said you’d get my cock when I felt you earned it, whining like a baby only makes me want to punish you. Want me to leave you here? Edged up, wanting?? Because I will. Ohh.. You know I will baby.”

Akechi’s eyes teared up, “you… you wouldn’t. That’s so mean Master…”

“Mmm… I don’t know mutt; punishment fits the crime.”

“I-,” that shut him up. Finally, his nascent pulling at his restraints went slack, like he’d finally given up. It made his assailants blood swell, cock throbbing at the sight. He’d broken into this boy’s home intending to rob him blind, but instead he’d broken his mind and turned him into a useless sex-puppet.

What a pathetic sight.

It made laughter bubble up in his throat, he didn’t even try to stop it. Bursting out laughing at the man he’d reduced to harlotry. Goro’s glassy eyes didn’t register his amusement, instead they lay dead focused on his cock.

He really was like a bitch in heat!

The man snorted a bit, rubbing away the reflex tears that had sprouted from his tear-ducts during his fit of laughter. This boy was too easy, far far too easy.

He pushed his fingers in deeper, extending the range from two digits to three. If the stretch was painful, Goro made no discernible grievances. His greedy hole sucked them in with a lustrous greed. “Oh, look at my mutt, you take my fingers so well. Your hole is so greedy for me!! Sucking me in like it’s a lollipop, you darling slut.”

He fingered Goro like he’d drive in traffic, unbearably, agonizingly slow. He barely thrust his fingers in and out, only curling them up, searching in want for his slave’s prostate. He wanted to milk the boy completely dry.

“Uuhhnn!! Oh!! Your fingers Master! They reach so deep inside me, oh I feel so full!! God- _ahahhnn_ \- yesyes…” The bed posts creaked with how hard Goro was jerking at his manacles.

His Master slowly pushed out of his hole, stopping at just the tips of his three fingers and letting Goro hang in that euphoria. His slave’s face was splotchy and flushed, like he’d just run a marathon. “Please…” He cried; voice quiet as a bunny.

His owner felt a flicker of remorse, before dismissing it. Sheathing all three fingers into Goro’s hole at once, up to the knuckle in mere seconds. Goro gurgled, head falling back like a puppet, screaming so loud he was sure the entire block heard his baying mutt. His cock shook for a moment, before gushing another bountiful load onto his chest.

Goro’s hips shuddered, eyes fluttering so fast he looked like he’d been drugged, debauched out of his mind.

His Master continued with this pace, slowly edging out his mutt for minutes on end, egging him on with taunts and promises of release. Just to hear his slave’s sweet sonata of pleas, wet begging and depraved nonsense spilling out of his puffy lips. The man wasn’t keeping pace with his slave’s orgasms, but the mess on his stomach suggested a handful, plus the few dry ones he was given to prolong the edging punishment.

Goro was broken. Reduced into a shell of the person he was hours ago. When he opened his mouth, it was to slobber at his Master’s fingers, when he took a breath, it was a kindness granted to him by Master. His being had regressed into an object for his owner to abuse, and he loved it!

Most words that spilt out of his mouth were joined with unscrupulous giggles, like he couldn’t think of a happier place to be then at the mercy of his Master. His tongue lolled out of his mouth permanently, as if he’d excepted his existence as a breeding-dog for his owner. Panting and barking at his every whim, it was a sight to behold.

He was in all senses of the word, _broken_.

“Mmm… You’ve been such a good boy for me.” His Master praised him, petting his mellifluous hair that had long since unravelled from its ponytail styling. Likely around the ballpark of Goro’s fourth orgasm.

“Hhaa!! Yes!! Ahhng—hgghaa…” Nothing that spewed from Goro’s mouth was coherent anymore, he’d resorted to barking and wailing like the mutt he was destined to be.

“You know what good boys get?”

Akechi shook his head no.

“Good boys get a gift from Master.”

A beam split across Goro’s face, his metaphorical tail wagging again. “Yes!! Hhhaah- _yesss_!!”

His Master lowered his tone, “But!! You’ll have to choose your gift. Master will give you two options,” he held out his index and middle finger in demonstration, “and Puppy will pick one. Do you understand?”

Akechi nodded his head feverishly, like a rouge sprinkler. Taking exceptionally well to his new moniker of “Puppy.”

“Puppy understands Master!!”

“Good boy,” he acclaimed. “Your two gifts are; you can either get these handcuffs taken off,” he tugged at the chains above his puppy’s head. “Orr, Master can finally give you his cock, which will it b-”

“Master’s cock!! Master cock!!! I want Master’s cock inside me!!” Goro sing-songed, not even needing to process the question. His thoughts were a beeline to his Master’s cock. He wanted it so badly!! He felt like he was going to die if he had to wait any sooner!!

“Heh… I had a feeling you’d say that.”

If Akechi had dog ears, he’d imagine them go flat on his head. His Masters tone!! Goro was suddenly filled with anxiety, had he made the wrong decision? Was Master angry at him?

“Are- is Master cross with me…?” He snivelled, hands curling into fists around his bed posts.

“No-no darling. I’m proud of you. I wanted to be sure you hadn’t lost sight of your end goal, and you didn’t! You’re such a good puppy for Master,” and with this, he reached into his front pocket, pulling out a dainty silver key.

“Mas-Master…?”

“You’ve earned it pup, I’ll unlock you _and_ give you my cock, does that sound good?”

Akechi was silent for a moment, decoding these words in his head, deciphering their meaning. All the while, his Master made quick work of the cuffs, tossing them off the side of the bed to land in with the clutter on the carpet.

He massaged at the cuff marks on his puppy’s wrists, feeling a modicum of repentance at the sight of rusty welts all along his hands. Kneading into Goro’s skin with a gentleness he hadn’t shown all night.

Finally, it seemed, his words had caught up to Goro, who snatched his hands away from him in a flurry. “You!! I- I- you mean I get??” He didn’t bother finishing his sentence, instead leaping into his owner’s arms, as much as he could with his sluggish legs and arms that felt like dead weight.

“Yes Puppy, you’ve been such a good boy for me, so obedient. You deserve your gift!”

His Master ran his skilled hands through Goro’s locks, petting him with slow repetitive motions. God, it felt so good!! Puppy felt thoroughly accomplished.

But not satisfied, not _yet_.

He grinded his hips against his Master’s cock, like a harlot would in a pink theatre. Bouncing his bruised ass on his Owners substantial bulge, hastily searching for any friction to get him off faster. Goro giggled in exhilaration, feeling his Master’s cock pulse and throb underneath his cunt.

“Master… Master is so hard for me!! Do you want to fuck me Master? Fill me up with your seed?? Breed me until I’m knocked up with your pups?? Do you want that Master?” Goro’s voice was warped and slutty, like he might start groveling at any moment and it wouldn’t feel out of place. 

His Master groaned at his pup’s slutty notions, moving to grip onto his waist with a snarl, and thrusted between his bare cheeks. The two of them humping each-other like they were curious virgins.

“You filthy fucking mutt, I’ll fuck the obscenities out of your mouth, you’ll be catatonic on my cock, just you wait,” and with his threat disclosed, he moved to slam Goro onto the bed, making his lithe body jump at the sheer force of the shunt.

“Your slutty pussy is soaking wet for me,” his Master growled out, kneeling to take a few laps at Goro’s gaping entrance. Just to renew the taste of submission in his mouth.

“Oh. Oh-oh!! Master, your-tonguuuue- nono!! Noo!! I want Master’s cock!! I’ve been such a good puppy for you Master!! I want your cock!! Gimme-gimme…!” Goro yowled, thumping his fists against Master’s chest like a bratty infant.

Finally, finally!!! His Master unzipped his pants, bringing out his length with a delicateness. Like he was holding fine China. Goro gawked at his Master’s size. How?? How would that fit in him?? How was his teeny tiny hole gonna swallow up this cock?? Slavia pooled in his mouth as he took Master’s cock in his hands, tilting it around as if he were analyzing it.

“Master… Master is so-big…”

“Oh puppy, you flatter me.” Master noted his pup’s hesitation. “Do you think you’ll be able to handle it?” He posed the query like a challenge.

His pretty-pup looked up at him with capacious ebon eyes, pupils having completely devoured the iris. “Yes!! I can handle it!!” His whole body trembled in eagerness; his cunt pulsating around nothing but air.

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, his Master fit his cock to his entrance. The feeling of girthy cock at his entrance made Goro’s head tumble back, letting out a loud keen, not discernible from a mutt’s. 

Master wiggled his hips, amazed at how his slave’s cunt swallowed him up. “Your greedy cunt sucked me right in pup, you’re amazing…”

About half-way in, he lost his patience and assiduousness for Goro, opting to thrust to the hilt in a kitschy second.

“Ahh!! Ah!-ahhugghnn.. Ah-hhahh- oh-oh my god-oh my god!!!! So-deep… so good Master, so good!!”

The room that had been hushed a minute ago was suddenly bursting with moans, Goro’s squealing reached the rooftops. An onslaught of slurred, debauched pleas of “ _faster_!!” and “ _harder_ ” grasped Master’s ears, along with hundreds of variations on dialect. Goro sounded like a broken dolly, repeating the same words in increasing depravity.

His walls pulsed around Master’s cock like he was enduring an orgasm, but nothing came out of his slit. Likely another dry orgasm.

But it didn’t matter if Goro had already been milked dry. His Master intended to use him until _he_ was satisfied, it didn’t matter if his slave lost consciousness or fainted from overstimulation. It didn’t matter!! He was a puppet for his Master, nothing more and nothing less.

“Ahhghuk!! AHHH!! IM-COM-COMING!!” Goro was screaming his head off, the sheer force of the thrusts causing his cot to ram into the wall, likely creating dents in the cheap drywall.

If Goro’s thighs weren’t already bruised, the precarious way Master was clasping them certainly would. The man recklessly pushed his nails into the red welts pampering Goro’s cheeks, caused by his earlier spankings.

The mixture of pain and pleasure caused Goro to bawl harder than he ever had, sobbing and weeping at his Master’s thrusts, at the sting of chilled air against his bruised cheeks, and at the overstimulation he was enduring.

He was on the edge!!!

He felt like he was going to black out!! Constantly hovering between fissures of pleasure was too much!! He couldn’t handle it!! Goro warbled, his throat making a sickening gagged sound. Like he was being choked, like he had a knife to his throat. If this went on any longer- he didn’t know if he could hold on!!

“Master!! I’m-aahhuuhk- ah! Nnuguhp- too-too much!! Master -hahh- It’s too much Master!! Too much!!”

Goro was at his limit.

He made a few more aborted warnings to his Master, who made no attempt to slow down his pace. Whipping his hips into his slave like an animal, like Goro was his fleshlight.

“Use your words Puppy.” He tenderly reminded. His voice was soft and gentle, nothing like how he’d addressed him before. It gave Goro whiplash, his headspace rippling at the sides.

Master continued with his pace, but lowered Goro’s legs, giving him more room to breathe. Goro greedily took in lungsful of air, saying nothing for once, just allowing himself to float.

Goro could see his Master more clearly in the position, his once slick-backed hair had seemed to spring up around his ears, curling into a more natural unruly state. He looked so kind, his hands no longer felt like a restrictive force but a gentle guidance. Guiding him through his climax, which was quickly nearing.

Logically, (with what little Goro could comprehend) Goro knew that this final orgasm would push him past his limit, he’d surely loose consciousness after this. Hell, he could see the darkness inclosing around his vision, like a romantic vignette around his Owner. And yet, it didn’t seem as unapproachable as before, he had his Master here to protect him, he’d be safe. He could afford to be dauntless here.

With this revelation, Goro opened his mouth to make one last plea to his Master, voice soft and fluffy, imitating the likeness of a cloud.

“Master… please, come inside me. I want to feel you spill your load inside my pussy, I want you to breed me Master, please-fill my cunt with your come!!!”

Heeding his puppy’s pathetic plea, the man finally reached his peak. Hips going still for a moment, thighs tensing as his orgasm rocked through him.

“Take it!! Take your Master’s come! Take it all inside your greedy cunt. Gonna fill you up with my seed, breed you, gonna make you fat with my pups!!” He jerked his softening cock inside Goro thrice more, aiming to spread his essence so deep into him Goro would never be clean of him. He had branded Goro as his forevermore.

And Goro, feeling his Master’s load spill into him, sweltering inside his cunt, allowed himself to fall off the edge. His cock spurted out a pitiful string of spunk onto his desecrated stomach, and then, and only then, his body went slack.

“Goro?!”

Goro had blacked out.

\--

“CUUUT!! CUT!”

Akira jumped a clean ten feet in the air, jolting Goro in the process. The director and camera crew had completely slipped his mind!! He had been laser focused in on Goro, and everything that came with that.

There was a pregnant pause, before the director piped up again.

“Jesus, did you kill him with your cock or something?”

Akira looked up at the camera crew, eyes a bit dazed out from his recent orgasm. “Uhh, I- I don’t think… so?”

Goro made a groaning sound, his corneas fluttering against his shut lids. Akira shushed him, opting to move Goro’s limp, prone body into his arms. Nothing self-indulgent about that, his consciousness expounded, just helping out a friend.

_Friend._

Akira shuffled off the bed with practiced ease. Goro hadn’t called for his safeword, but he certainly should’ve. He’d clearly gotten close to it at the end there, his timid pleading had made Akira tone down his violent captor persona for a moment, just to check on Akechi.

If Akechi wasn’t passed out cold in his arms right now, he’d reprimand Akira for worrying too much.

The sound of film and sound design jargon propelled Akira out of his thoughts, eyes meeting with the rest of the gawking camera-team.

Oh, the crew. Akira was reminded, and was abruptly assaulted by a thousand studio lights, and a very irritated manager. Whose client was currently being cradled in his arms.

“Uhm.”

“Maahhsterr- hhaaah- ‘kira, warm.” Akechi added unhelpfully, snuggling his face into Akira’s side.

Sae’s eye twitched. “Get out of my sight Kurusu, before I throttle you in front of a dozen witnesses.”

Akira nodded an affirmative, fixing the mushy pile of Akechi Goro in his arms before turning to the crew. “I’ll- take it from here.”

Goro stirred a bit in his arms, moving to wrap his wrists around Akira’s neck to take some of the dead-weight off him. Akira couldn’t say he wasn’t grateful. He wished he had a third hand to snag through Goro’s hair, just to hear that soft purring again. It was so _cute_ earlier that Akira almost slipped character!!

Though, he imagined it wouldn’t matter to the viewers if the brooding male figure suddenly started leering down at his slave, especially when said slave was a drooly debauched Goro.

Akira exhaled hoarsely.

First, a warm bath, he proposed, and then a well-deserved nap. Akira had no trouble believing that Goro’s cushy fitting room would have all the finest amenities, unlike his own room which had the attractions of a moldy vending machine and dead bugs crusting the peeled-up laminated flooring.

Not to mention he’d have the upside of nuzzling up to a sleeping Goro. Who was very adamant on cuddling, pulling at his shirts fabric every few minutes and whining out an rambling jumble of, “Mmm- ‘Kira.. warm. Wannt- hug. ‘Kirrrraaaaaa..!! Cuddle…”

He was so endearing it hurt.

“Yes ‘Kechi, you’ll get your cuddles alright, just be patient for now.”

Goro quirked open an eye at this, staring at Akira languidly. “Hmmph… it’d better be soon Kurusu.” His swollen lips in a pout.

Goro continued to scrutinize him, puckering his lips into a frown at whatever he saw in Akira’s face. Maybe it dawned on him what they were doing, the blatant dancing around each other. Akira’s heart jumped into his throat, beating three-hundred miles a minute.

Would Goro get angry at him? Would he kick him out of his room? Would he remove him off his phone and never talk to him again?? The multitudes of realities clouded his head.

“Kurusu. Your brain is being especially loud. Penny for your thoughts?”

Ah. It seemed Akechi was more conscious now, which meant Akira’s impeding doom was dawning ever so closer. “Uhh- well. I mean-”

If Akira’s hands were free and not full of Goro’s bruised limbs, he’d rub the back of his neck in contempt.

“Akira, please. What’s on your mind…?”

Alarm sounds went off in his head, firstly, at Akechi’s use of his first name for once, and secondly at his probing. “Right, well I was wondering, I mean- Uh…”

He took a profound inhale, and fixed Goro with a firm look. “Leblanc, would you like to go? Another time? With me I mean… Uhm, not strictly on business purposes.”

Akechi was quiet for a moment before barking out a laugh at the proposal, though his eyes held no ill-will or menace.

“Yeah, I’d love that Akira.”

**Author's Note:**

> now this was quite fun. I really do like having Akira bridal carry Akechi around...  
> some notes:  
> If you paint over a smokers wall, (to get rid of the smell) the tobacco seeps through the layers of paint.  
> Ryuji definitely got throttled that night for the precise location of the featherman shop in central street.  
> Don't think too hard about the logistics of that second scene, just assume all of the tenants are like, dead asleep.  
> next stop - omegaverse bottom-goro!!  
> If you wanna chat or shadow my other rendezvous' you can follow my 18+ twitter: [@chaiouse](https://twitter.com/chaiouse)  
> (I'd love to have some new moots on the horny tl!!)


End file.
